


Dare Shall Be Carried

by TheResurrectionist



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman (Movies - Nolan), Batman - All Media Types, Dark Knight (2008)
Genre: All Roads Lead to Canon, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bruce Wayne is Batman, Gun Violence, Identity Porn, Identity Reveal, Kidnapping, Secret Identity, The Dark Knight - Freeform, Torture
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-04
Updated: 2017-02-05
Packaged: 2018-08-13 00:21:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,529
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7954807
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheResurrectionist/pseuds/TheResurrectionist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gordon is kidnapped. Rachel and Harvey are taken. All the Joker wants is Batman’s mask gone, his identity revealed for all of Gotham to see. </p><p> <em>“I submit,” Batman said, kneeling. It gave even the Joker pause. His voice was even softer than usual, a murmur. His hands hovered around his cowl, hesitant. “I’ll….take it off. Don’t kill them.”</em></p><p>  <em>The Joker tilted his head, fascinated. “You will, now?”</em></p><p>  <em>“I will.” Batman said, sure of it now. He locked eyes with Harvey, something wry in his gaze before it slid to Gordon. Gordon. He’d been the man’s best friend--his confidant. Of course it would end over Gordon. “But you cannot hurt these people.”</em></p><p>  <em>“I promise,” the Joker said seriously, unable to look away from the man’s hands. “Do it.”</em></p><p>  <em>The cowl was unlatched slowly, parts that interlocked falling to pieces, drawn away from a face with angular cheekbones. Dark hair filled Harvey’s vision, hazel eyes staring out at him from a face that had mocked him for months. Bruce Wayne.</em></p><p>An alternate take on the ending of TDK to satisfy my identity!porn urges.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. By Your Side

**Author's Note:**

> There should be at least one more chapter after this. I just loved the idea of Harvey and Gordon finding out who Batman was at the end of The Dark Knight.

Commissioner Jim Gordon crouched down next to his son, passing a hand across the boy's face with a sort of tenderness he hadn't let himself feel in days. Jimmy shifted under his touch, waking. His eyes went wide.

"Did Batman save you, Dad?"

Gordon felt a pang at the words, a smile edging itself onto his face. "Actually, this time, I saved _him_."

Jimmy opened his mouth to ask another question, interrupted by the ringing of a cell phone. Gordon looked down, realizing the sound came from his belt. He grabbed the phone and jabbed at the keypad. "Gordon."

"We got a situation. Dent and Dawes are missing. And…" Ramirez's voice trailed off. Gordon bit his lip. Jimmy looked on, eyes wide.

"And what, detective?" He asked, barely trusting himself to stay calm. "Spit it out. Now."

"The Joker's gone, sir." Ramirez said, voice cold. "You're next, sir."

"What?" Gordon looked at the phone, then back to his son. He heard something shift behind him, and lowered his voice as he searched for the cause. Jimmy tensed, shrinking behind his father's shoulder. "Detective, I'm gonna have to call you back, there's something-"

"Oh _God_ , _I'm sorry,_ " Ramirez choked out. Just as the line went dead, hands closed around Gordon's throat from behind. Jimmy's pale face was the last thing he saw as the world faded around him; his family, his son, screaming as he was stripped away from them once more, maybe for the last time.

He kicked out at the attacker, getting a satisfying groan in return, before everything went black.

* * *

Harvey woke alone, his head ringing from whatever Ramirez had used to knock him out. He groaned at the pain, forcing his eyes open. A dark warehouse came into view slowly, blurry around the edges. He shifted and found his hands bound behind him, zip tied to an icy metal chair. "Christ."

"Harvey? Is that you?" Rachel's voice shattered the dreamy quality to his vision, turning his blood ice cold. "Thank God. Harvey-"

"Rachel. Rachel." Harvey twisted in his chair, ignoring the pain in his head. He finally spotted her in a similar predicament a few yards behind him, face pale. "Are you okay?"

"I'm okay. Harvey, I'm fine." She swallowed, belying the calm facade. A small cut was weeping blood at her hairline, streaking her face with half-dried red. "Are you okay? How did they get you?"

"I'm fine. Ramirez." Harvey grunted, pulling at the zip ties. The plastic bit into his skin, unforgiving where even ropes would budge. He looked at the ceiling, turning so Rachel wouldn't see his sudden bout of despair. "So this is the Joker's plan. Leaving us alone."

Rachel's eyes flashed, a warning. "Harvey-"

"Actually, I was just running one little last errand." a devious voice said, the sound of it crawling into Harvey's ears, burrowing its way in. "But! If you want me to get rid of your company here, let me know."

The Joker came into sight a half-second later, dragging an unconscious Jim Gordon with him. He smirked at Harvey and grinned at Rachel, leering. "Miss me, beautiful?"

"Not a bit," Rachel spat, twisting her face in defiance. Harvey tensed as the Joker considered her, wishing for once she'd just stay quiet. The man let out a chuckle, yellow teeth flickering in the low light. He turned to Harvey, Jim's body limp in his hands.

"She's got sand here, this one. You really know what you're getting into with this lady, Harvey?" The Joker gave him a full smile this time, dropping Gordon on the ground in between them. His hands and legs were tied together, contorted in a position that could only be painful. "The Commish here? Not so much. _Idealists._ Letting others do their dirty work. _Psh_."

"What do you want with us, you piece of shit?' Harvey asked, daring his voice to break. It didn't. "What are you planning?"

"Nothing _you_ need to know," the other man said mockingly, straightening the cuffs of his shirt. He met his eyes for a second, head tilted. "You're _bait_. Bait just sits there and, uh, squirms. So..." He trailed off, glancing towards the exit. "Have fun squirming."

He exited uncharacteristically quietly, leaving the grandstanding and showmanship for another time. Harvey watched his loping gait and felt his arms finally go numb.

_Bait._

* * *

Gordon came to consciousness against what felt like stone, unable to move beyond a few millimeters. His first thought was Jimmy-Barbara and the kids. Had they taken them as well? He groaned, pulling against what felt like zip ties around his wrists.

"Gordon."

He forced his eyes up. Harvey Dent was staring down at him, bound to a chair. With a wrench of his shoulders, Gordon rolled himself into a sitting position, bringing them closer. "Dent."

"Rachel's behind me," the DA explained quickly, voice hushed. "The Joker took us here, Said we were bait. He left about twenty minutes ago."

"How?" Gordon asked, looking at Dawes. She seemed dazed, eyes glassy under a cut on her forehead. "How did he get to us?"

"I'll tell you how," Harvey said, expression thunderous. His hair was mussed. " _Your_ damn cops! Ramirez was dirty all along, I _told_ you!"

The phone call. The choked _I'm sorry._ She had taken Dent home after the Joker had been arrested. She'd probably facilitated his escape. _Christ._ "You were right."

"Of course I was right!" Harvey's voice rose, something manic glittering behind his eyes. "You were too blind to realize, Gordon! You'd rather keep the status quo than change _anything_! Look where that got us!"

The man's face was red after all of the screaming, eyes feverish. Gordon met Rachel's eyes once, then inclined his head. There was nothing he could say. They were as good as dead.

"He said we were bait," Rachel murmured after a moment, changing the subject deftly. "Bait for who? GCPD?"

"The Batman," Harvey didn't look up, defeated, all of his anger trickling away. "Isn't it obvious?"

"He won't come," Rachel said quickly, "He didn't unmask himself the first time. He knows we need him."

"He was going to," Harvey muttered darkly, glaring at Gordon. "He was going to give himself up. He'll do it again. Then the Joker will kill him, and all of us."

The Commissioner met his stare dead on, face carefully blank.

"Then we better find a way to get out of this ourselves."

"How?"

"Well, for starters," Gordon wiggled a little on the floor, testing it. "He didn't tie me to a chair. That's gotta get us somewhere."

If Harvey could move his arms, he would be smacking himself. "Jesus."

* * *

The Joker left one clue in the remnants of his cell at GCPD. Scrawled delicately where only Batman would choose to look, an address written in blood:

_Avenue X at Cicero. Midnight._

The city below him was in a panic. Gordon was missing; so was Dent. Rachel had never returned to the penthouse. It was all connected. The Joker had _wanted_ to be captured. Of course he wouldn't be doing his own dirty work. _That's for the dirty cops,_ Bruce thought to himself.

Avenue X and Cicero conjoined at a large warehouse-abandoned since the 1950's, according to his records. It was over three stories tall, with six exits, one below ground. Heat signatures indicated there were at least three people inside. Wheel tracks in the dirt outside indicated machinery, something large and heavy, judging by the indents.

Bruce tapped his comm once. "Any sign?"

"I am afraid not," Alfred's voice replied a moment later, grave. "Gotham is, for once, uncharacteristically silent. The Joker has not been sighted."

He spotted a fourth heat signature enter the warehouse, frowning. This was too easy. No guards, no dogs. It was a trap, and both of them knew it. "I'm going in."

Alfred said nothing, but his breathing was audible, the comm link still open. With a quick running start, he launched himself off the side of the building, gliding towards the warehouse.

* * *

Harvey watched as the Joker flipped switch after switch on the warehouse wall, bathing them in industrial-strength lights. He'd wheeled in over a dozen cameras, all manned by remote control. Jim had been strapped to a chair a few moments earlier, dashing all hopes of escape when the Joker beat him mercilessly with the butt of his gun.

Now they were seated in a half-circle, directly in front of the cameras. The Joker was messing with one of the wires, concentration eluding him every few seconds.

Harvey wished he could hold Rachel's hand one last time. He saw the stubborn set to her jaw and tried to follow suit as the Joker danced around them, proud of his production. Gordon just looked pale, an impressive set of bruises mottling his throat.

"Good Morning, Gotham!" The Joker threw his hands wide as the cameras switched on, sending their signals to all of the local studios. "Take a break from your early-mornin' yoga classes, blender tutorials, and news, cause we've got a _show_ for you!"

Harvey squirmed as the Joker leaned over him, hot breath skittering across his face. "Harvey Dent is with us today. As is Ms. Dawes-or should I say Dent?"

Rachel glared at him as he passed her, looking murderous. The Joker stopped by Gordon, raising an eyebrow. "And your brand spanking new police commissioner! What a show!"

The lights flickered for a second, the signal dropping. The Joker seemed unfazed, glancing at the ceiling as the lights returned. Somewhere, a generator whirred. "That wasn't nice, Batsy."

A low growl came from the shadows. "Let them go."

Harvey felt his heart stop as a dark shape appeared in the shadows. It was him. But-

"Of course," The Joker said quickly, gesturing towards the cameras. "As soon as you take that little cowl of yours off."

The dark figure stilled. Harvey saw what could've been hesitation in the lines of his form. Nothing was said.

"Oh, a little recalcitrant? I must be pressing the wrong buttons." With a flourish, the Joker produced a gun and held it to Rachel's head. Harvey felt his heart stutter, watching the metal gleam against her scalp. Batman was motionless, unflapped. "No? Really? No reaction?"

Rachel stared straight at Batman, eerily calm. "Don't tell him. Don't do it. I'm going to be fi-"

He shot Rachel in the knee with little hesitation, cackling over her screams as her kneecap shattered. Harvey was screaming before he could even comprehend the noise, throat raw, hands bleeding as he tried to reach her. " _Rachel!_ "

Batman flinched with every single sob Rachel let out, vibrating with tension. It wasn't missed by the Joker, nor the cameras. "Oh, so _that_ 's what it takes to get a rise out of ole' Batsy! You shoulda _said_ so, son!"

Harvey felt hands descend on his shoulders, yanking him back into the chair. Batman's eyes were flickering between him and Rachel, trying to assess the threat to the DA, obviously worried. His hands twitched, as if to move to his face and remove the cowl. He remembered his words from earlier, forced his lips to shape them. "You can't give in! _You can't give in_!"

Whatever they did to him, he could bear. "Not Rachel.." he heard himself muttering over her pained sobs. "Do it to me…"

The Joker placed the gun to his head, looking straight at the Batman. "I can do this all day. There's so many places in the body to shoot! How am I gonna choose, huh?"

The gun hovered over his shoulder. A deafening blast later, and there was blinding pain in his shoulder. Blood splattered his suit; he stared at the wound in disbelief. "R-rachel…"

"I'm here, Harvey.." Rachel looked pale next to him, sweat dotting her brow. She wasn't looking at the ruins of her leg, instead setting her teeth. His brave, stubborn Rachel. "We're..o-okay…"

The Joker cackled again, diving over to Jim Gordon, brandishing the gun with gusto. Batman froze perceptively, hands twitching at his side. "Ah, and onto the Commissioner!"

Gordon looked pale, but resigned. He met the Joker's stare coolly. "Do your worst."

The Joker pressed his gun to the Commissioner's crotch immediately, eyes wide in faux innocence. "My worst? Why, Commissioner, I had no idea!"

Batman started forward at the first sign of fear in Gordon's eyes. "Enough."

"Enough? I'm not done!" Joker pointed the gun at Rachel, then swung it to Harvey, then back to Gordon. "You have to choose! Which one, huh? C'mon, you're not making this _any_ fu-"

"I submit," Batman said, kneeling. It gave even the Joker pause. His voice was even softer than usual, a murmur. His hands hovered around his cowl, hesitant. "I'll….take it off. Don't kill them."

The Joker tilted his head, fascinated. "You will, now?"

"I will." Batman said, sure of it now. He locked eyes with Harvey, something wry in his gaze before it slid to Gordon. Gordon. He'd been the man's best friend-his confidant. Of course it would end over Gordon. "But you cannot hurt these people."

"I promise," the Joker said seriously, unable to look away from the man's hands. "Do it."

The cowl was unlatched slowly, parts that interlocked falling to pieces, drawn away from a face with angular cheekbones. Dark hair filled Harvey's vision, hazel eyes staring out at him from a face that had mocked him for months. _Bruce Wayne._

He heard Gordon's intake of breath next to him, a sharp inhale of surprise. Next to him, Rachel didn't seem shocked at all. She seemed worried, if anything, lips white with pain. "No. No way."

The Joker smacked himself on the cheeks a few times, letting out a trembling giggle. "Why, Brucie! Who'd have thunk?"

The recording cameras around them were damning. Wayne didn't move, still kneeling against the cold floor. The black suit and cape gave him a strangely regal look, one even his aristocratic features couldn't manage on their own. His eyes were sharp. How had Harvey ever been fooled by the vain and vapid persona Wayne had put on?

"You promised," Wayne said firmly, gazing up at the enamoured Joker. "Now let them go."

The Joker tilted his head, as if considering. He took a pair of scissors out of his pocket a second later, unable to tear his gaze from Wayne. He tossed them to Harvey, the sharp edges landing mercifully away from his legs. "Go, then."

Harvey managed to get one hand around the handle, swinging them around to his bound wrists. With some careful maneuvering, the thin band of plastic snapped. He cut his legs, then Gordon's ties, unable to look at Rachel. Gordon took the scissors from him, somehow knowing. They held Rachel between them, glancing at the door, then back to Wayne.

"Go," Wayne said simply, with a tone of a man who'd known his fate long before he'd walked into the room. Harvey took one last look at the man-their hero-and carried Rachel to safety.


	2. And When We Both Have Had Enough

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I thought this was going to be a two part story, but it ended up being three. Apologies in advance for all of this angst...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long break in between updates! I hope you enjoy...

_**Before** _

_The cowl was unlatched slowly, parts that interlocked falling to pieces, drawn away from a face with angular cheekbones. Dark hair filled Harvey's vision, hazel eyes staring out at him from a face that had mocked him for months. Bruce Wayne._

_He heard Gordon's intake of breath next to him, a sharp inhale of surprise. Next to him, Rachel didn't seem shocked at all. She seemed worried, if anything, lips white with pain. "No. No way."_

_The Joker smacked himself on the cheeks a few times, letting out a trembling giggle. "Why, Brucie! Who'd have thunk?"_

_The recording cameras around them were damning. Wayne didn't move, still kneeling against the cold floor. The black suit and cape gave him a strangely regal look, one even his aristocratic features couldn't manage on their own. His eyes were sharp. How had Harvey ever been fooled by the vain and vapid persona Wayne had put on?_

_"You promised," Wayne said firmly, gazing up at the enamoured Joker. "Now let them go."_

_The Joker tilted his head, as if considering. He took a pair of scissors out of his pocket a second later, unable to tear his gaze from Wayne. He tossed them to Harvey, the sharp edges landing mercifully away from his legs._

_"Go, then."_

_Harvey managed to get one hand around the handle, swinging them around to his bound wrists. With some careful maneuvering, the thin band of plastic snapped. He cut his legs, then Gordon's ties, unable to look at Rachel. Gordon took the scissors from him, somehow knowing. They held Rachel between them, glancing at the door, then back to Wayne._

_"Go," Wayne said simply, with a tone of a man who'd known his fate long before he'd walked into the room. Harvey took one last look at the man-their hero-and carried Rachel to safety._

* * *

_**Now** _

As soon as they got Rachel outside, a pair of EMTs met them, stretcher in hand. Gordon helped Harvey deposit the moaning woman onto it gratefully, glad that Batman- _Bruce_ -had had the wherewithal to call for emergency services before he'd entered the warehouse.

Harvey collapsed against a nearby wall as the ambulance sped away, blood caking his shirt. Gordon staggered over to him, his legs regaining feeling slowly. He pulled the man's shoulder closer, inspecting the wound.

"You're lucky," he said, not feeling relieved in the slightest, "Looks like a flesh wound. Through and through."

Harvey's blue eyes met his, looking glazed over. "We need to go back in there."

With shaky hands, Gordon tore off his sweater and ripped a large strip off. He began wrapping a small compress, watching as his fingers shook around the cotton. Shock and adrenaline, even after all these years.

"You need to go to a hospital," Gordon told him, struggling to put some authority back into his words. They were both scared, dazed, confused. They were having a hard time convincing themselves, let alone each other. "More than that, you need to take care of Rachel. I would've thought you'd be in that ambulance riding with her."

"Bruce Wayne…" Harvey said dazedly. He looked up to Gordon, eyes burning. "Did you know?"

"How could I?" Gordon replied, adding more material to the bandage. "I'm just as surprised as you are. I thought Wayne was an idiot."

"We need to make sure the Joker doesn't kill him," Harvey replied, accepting the compress with a nod. He pressed it against his shoulder, buttoning his shirt around it. "He can't die, Gordon, you _know_ that."

_Bruce Wayne,_ Gordon remembered suddenly. _Christ,_ but he was just a kid-just a fucking kid. He remembered covering the kid in a coat that had been far too large for his shoulders-watching as the boy's face had closed up with every minute. He'd grown decades in minutes. If only he'd seen.

"What are you suggesting?" he asked weakly, looking at the D.A. "We call the police in, it's a for-sure bloodbath. Joker's got it wired, or he's insane."

Harvey struggled to his feet, stumbling a little. "We have to do _something_!"

"I know, I know!" Gordon said, waving a hand. "Just-can you pull up his feed on your cell phone?"

" _That's_ your plan?" Harvey exclaimed, but his hand was reaching into his pocket, pulling out his phone. In the distance, they could hear sirens, obviously speeding their way. "Whatever you want to do, it has to be soon."

Gordon grabbed the phone, tracking Wayne's face across the screen. "The media's going to eat him alive, aren't they?"

"That poor son of a bitch," Harvey said, a bitter edge to his words. "That _stupid_ son of a bitch."

* * *

He watched the Joker carefully as Gordon and Harvey took Rachel to safety, making sure the man kept his word. When they were outside, he let his hands lower to his sides, still on his knees. The warehouse fell silent, save for the whirring of the cameras.

"Well," the Joker said awkwardly after a moment, "That was fun, wasn't it?"

Bruce looked up at him, feeling utterly exposed without the cowl. All of Gotham had to be watching them at this point-something he could use to his advantage….if he could just _think_ straight. Seeing his closest friends and allies injured hadn't exactly done wonders for his psyche.

"I did what you asked," Bruce said, matching the Joker's stare. He let his lips twitch into a smile, knowing it infuriated the other man. "What do you want?"

"What an excellent question!" Joker said, dancing a little in front of the cameras. Bruce noted the malice in his eyes, and didn't let the theatrics distract him. "I want to be the unrevolving pivot in the center of the ever-changing universe...I want to be _still_."

A group of ten or twelve thugs entered the back door, looking bloodthirsty.

"Bullshit," Bruce said, narrowing his eyes. "You're a creature of chaos. Being _still_ isn't in your vocabulary."

"I told you not to talk like them!" a hit from the butt of the gun caught him across the chin. He'd barely seen the weapon coming, Joker's body language too discordant to telegraph. Even so, he managed to avoid most of the blow, the gun skidding across his jaw. " _You know you're not_!"

"You've made your point," Bruce said dryly, spitting blood to the side. The Joker's eyes latched onto the sight. "Now tell me what you really want."

"I had a _plan_ ," the Joker said, leering close to him. Bruce refused to flinch, and he saw approval in the other man's makeup-caked eyes. "Harvey. He was supposed to fall, the whole time. I was going to, uh, bring him down to _our_ level, if you know what I mean."

"You failed," Bruce said sagely, watching the other man carefully. "He's safe. They're all safe."

The Joker's face twitched strangely.

"You sure about that, Brucie?"

* * *

Harvey looked up from the phone, locking eyes with Gordon.

"Rachel," he breathed, horror in his eyes.

* * *

"Unit 4756 approaching Gotham General," the EMT said into the walkie talkie at his collar. "Adult female, GSW to lower left knee. Mild facial trauma, transporting to emergency room."

"Hey Bill," the other EMT said, strapping the woman's good leg to the spinal board. "Did you put some extra equipment in the rear cabinet?"

"No. Why?"

The two of them stared as the former drew out what looked like a small computer battery, two blinking lights at the top.

"Is that what I think it-"

* * *

The explosion made everyone at the now-designated active scene jump. Gordon had just welcomed the first responders, setting a perimeter, when he looked up at the noise. He saw Harvey a few steps away, his face pale as a sheet. It had only been a few blocks away. It couldn't be-

"Rachel," Dent said slowly, his lips trembling. " _Rachel_."

"It's fine," Gordon said. He crossed the distance between them slowly, as if not to startle a frightened animal. He put a hand on Dent's shoulder. "It's probably not her-"

The walkie talkie he'd picked up a minute ago damned him. The responding officer sounded defeated as he radioed in. "We've got reports of an ambulance at 40th and Mitchell, a possible explosive device-"

Harvey's face crumpled, the whole crime scene falling silent. A low keening noise came from the DA as he buried his face in his hands. Gordon stood still, shocked to his core.

_Of course. Batman hadn't called that ambulance-he didn't know we'd need it. God, why had we been so_ stupid _-_

They had been bleeding, reeling from Bruce's deception, from Joker's cruelty. They'd seen help and stumbled straight into Joker's trap, as usual.

_I bet he wanted Harvey in that ambulance too,_ Gordon mused as Harvey mourned, too stunned to do anything but rationalize away, his brain in work mode. _But he didn't get in. He wanted to go back in for Bruce-and the Joker hadn't planned for that-_

"I'm going to kill him," Harvey said, startling him from his reverie. He found the DA staring at the warehouse, face blank. His eyes were red, but there were no visible tears. He spoke slowly, emotionless. "Give me your gun."

"Harvey-"

" _Don't you dare try to defend him_!" Dent screamed suddenly, swinging at him. Gordon ducked easily, catching the man before he overbalanced. " _You don't know what I've lost! You'll never know what I just lost, you son of a bitch!_ "

The patrol officers were staring, even the reporters a few blocks away behind the tape noticing. Gordon put Dent in a chokehold, only for the man to buck him off, returning the favor with an arm around his neck. His newly-replaced gun was tugged from its holster and pressed to his neck.

"We're going in there," Dent hissed, "And I'm going to do what you and _Batman_ never could, or so help me God, I'll burn the whole place down."

Gordon waved off the running officers, signalling for them to stand down. "I can't let you do that, Harvey. You know I can't."

"You don't get a _choice_ ," Dent said viciously, tugging him towards the warehouse door. The gun was icy against his neck. " _Move_."

* * *

He heard the explosion and _knew,_ suddenly, how grandly he had failed. Someone was dead. Possibly more than one of them. Joker watched as he processed this information, zooming one of the cameras in so Gotham could as well.

"You bastard," he whispered, numb. "What have you done?"

"If I knew it would have been this easy to force Batman to his _knees_ ," the Joker said with a leer, the implication present, "I would have blown up your little, uh, _girlfriend,_ way sooner."

He made an indescribable noise in his throat, rising to his feet. The Joker backed up, waving a hand.

"Ah ah ah," he said, smiling at him. "You touch me, and we all go up. You didn't think I was that _stupid,_ did you?"

He pulled his vest apart delicately, revealing a mess of wires. Bruce took a step back despite himself, watching the thugs in the corner carefully.

"You'd kill yourself just to take me out?" He asked, buying time to look at the vest a little more closely. His heart ached. "I didn't think you were that self-sacrificing."

"I don't want to stop," Joker replied evenly, smiling at him. He closed the vest carefully. "But if I can't have you...how does the saying go? Then nobody can."

Behind them, a door banged open. Startled, they both turned to find Dent, his arm around Gordon, dragging him back to the scattered chairs. A gun was pressed to his neck.

_What are you doing?_ He wanted to scream at them, enraged. _You were safe! You were-_

Dent released Gordon, shoving him into one of the chairs. His shoulder was still a mess of blood, bright red in the dim light. He levelled the gun at the Joker, his face an icy mask.

"Don't!" Bruce cried, stepping in front of Dent. "He's wired! He's _wired,_ you idiot!"

Dent barely glanced at him. The gun didn't lower. "I don't _care_."

That was answer enough for him. It had been Rachel. Out of all of them, it had to be her. Bruce felt shame, guilt, anger and grief lance through him, the emotions almost too much for a moment. _Rachel-_

He moved closer, aware that Joker was zooming in on their conversation, gleeful expression on his face. "He's playing you. He's trying to get you to do it. He'll blow the whole town to _hell,_ Harvey!"

Gordon watched him shakily, not moving from his chair.

"Rachel is dead," Harvey said slowly, looking at him directly for the first time. "I thought you were supposed to _protect_ us. _Protect_ her. She _trusted_ you!"

That stung more than it should. He bowed his head, accepting the hit. "And I failed her."

"You did worse than that," Dent said viciously, gesturing with the gun. "You failed all of us. If you'd just killed this _son of a bitch_ from the very start-"

"I don't kill," Bruce said, knowing it was a weak response, hearing the Joker cackle behind him. "When we kill, we become worse than them. You're the public servant-you know they deserve due process-"

"Are you listening to yourself?" Dent cried, waving the gun madly. "He deserves an unmarked _grave,_ you two-faced son of a bitch!"

"Don't do this," Bruce urged, holding his hands up. "Rachel wouldn't have-"

"Oh, that's _rich,_ " Dent crowed, receiving a thumbs-up from the Joker that he studiously ignored. "Were you sleeping with her the whole time, or were you just hopelessly obsessed? You didn't _deserve_ her! She was _scared_ of you!"

The Joker raised a hand. "I can, uh, testify to _Batsy's_ little love affair with Missus, uh, _Rachel_. He threw himself off a _building,_ for chrissakes!"

Harvey turned on him with a murderous glare. "You don't speak her name."

Joker mimed zipping his lips up and throwing away the key. "Back to the main show, then! Forget _me_."

"You don't want to do this," Gordon said, standing from his chair. He walked cautiously to Bruce's side, eyeing the DA. "Ba-Bruce is right. Innocent people will die. This isn't you, Harvey."

"...You're right." Dent said slowly, eyeing Gordon. " _Harvey_ died with Rachel. I'm nothing like... _him_."

The Joker cackled, breaking the sudden silence. "I like where this is going! A little more _tension,_ though, Harvey. Little louder if you can-"

"You shut up," Dent said, pointing the gun around Bruce, who only stepped in front of it again. " _Move_ , Wayne."

When Harvey's fingers twitched, he dove for the gun. They wrestled together, a shot going off as Bruce wrested the weapon from the weakened Harvey. The DA grunted, head jerking back. "Stop!"

"You'll have to shoot me," Dent said, blood pouring down his face as he stumbled back. Bruce realized in horror where that errant shot had gone-not far away and into the wall, but cleaving half of Harvey's face open.

He saw bone, muscle, and sinew, and swallowed harshly. The DA's lips twitched, half of them hanging off by a thread of flesh. It was easily one of the more gruesome things he'd ever seen. "Bwruce. Dwo it. _Dwo it_."

_I can't…_

Bruce turned, watching Dent out of the corner of his eye. Gordon was deathly pale at his side. He handed the Lieutenant the gun, shaking his head. "I'm...I'm sorry, Harvey."

"No..." Dent slurred. Bruce realized too late that he had grasped the Joker's scissors from earlier, lurching forward with them raised like a knife. "No. Not ath sworry ath you wll bwe."

The scissors dug into his chestplate, the only thing saving his heart from the metal a few millimeters of kevlar. The crazed man swung at his neck, nicking the skin there, and he stepped back, unprepared. Dent fought like a man who had nothing to lose (he didn't), like an animal. He tried to maneuver around him, but the dizziness from Joker's earlier hit struck him again. Dent almost had it at his jugular-

Before he could react, Gordon raised the gun and fired. Dent fell back, a bullet hole between his eyes. Silence overtook them yet again, broken only by the thud of the DA's body against the concrete.

"Jesus," Bruce said, pressing a hand to his neck. Blood flowed freely, streaming past his fingers. "Harvey…"

He looked to Gordon, whose face was deathly pale. The man still had the gun in the air, a perfect axis stance for the world to see. Bruce closed his eyes in defeat. They'd failed. They'd both failed.

"Smile for the camera, boys," the Joker said loudly, wheeling one over so the light shone in their eyes. His voice shattered the silence. "This party isn't _close_ to being over!"

_It was never going to be over,_ Bruce realized. _Not until the Joker's had a piece of everyone who's ever tasted power in Gotham. Not until we're all at his..._ level. "Let Gordon go."

"Now _why_ would I do that?" the Joker asked, looming closer. Bruce stepped in front of Gordon protectively. "You two are the hottest bargaining chips in town! Kingkillers, the both of you!"

Gordon made a painful noise that tightened his throat. Bruce glared at cameras, willing them to turn away. _Christ, Alfred must be watching-_

The whole world was watching, who was he kidding? "You planned this."

"Excuse me?" the Joker asked, putting a hand to his ear. His lips curled. "I thought, a minute or two ago, you were accusing me of being _chaotic._ If I was so reckless, how could I have planned all of, uh, this?"

Bruce was silent, thinking through their options. There were few.

"Now that we've got _that_ settled," the Joker said, smirking at both of them. "Go sit down and stew. I've got some, uh, _phonecalls_ to make."

He had to guide Gordon over to the chair, sitting the man down with less-than-gentle movements. Harvey's corpse watched both of them from across the room, blue eyes glazed over.

"What have I done," Gordon murmured to his lap, sounding horrified. "What have I _done_?"

**Author's Note:**

> Leave me a comment, and let me know what you thought!


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